Crash Course
by therubyone
Summary: This 4 part story starts with the closing scene in the episode THE HELICOPTER, featuring Drake, Josh, Walter, Audrey & Megan in a family crisis. NOTE: rated Mature for slash in Ch. 3 only.
1. Chapter 1

You know the drill: By this D**isclaimer**, I sadly admit that I do not own any particle of Drake or Josh, and I'm making no profit from them, and intend no infringement to the copyrights of large, powerful entertainment moguls or conglomerates.

**Rated**: M for Mature - content may be upsetting for younger readers, particularly male/male slash in Part 3 - be warned.

Inspiration provided by the final moments of the episode _**The Helicopter**_.

**_CRASH COURSE_**

**_PART ONE – LOCKDOWN_**

After they had effectively grounded themselves, to avoid a confrontation with their parents, Drake Parker and Josh Nichols, looking crestfallen, and with their heads down, turned on their heels and scurried down the hall – away from the threatening helicopter pilot and the furious father, the latter standing by the front door to their house, holding a bill for $400,000.00. As soon as they were out of sight, they broke into a run and hurried upstairs to the sanctuary of their bedroom. They were chilled, exhausted, hungry, and now, extremely worried.

Drake sank wearily onto the couch and told Josh, "I guess I should thank you for saving my life. Although it's not going to be worth much now."

Josh fell back onto his bed and replied, "Maybe if I hadn't gone after you, the situation wouldn't have happened. If you'd been by yourself, gotten scared and not jumped, nobody would have been the wiser."

"Well, that's a hypothetical," answered Drake. "The reality is that an expensive helicopter crashed into the ocean and we're being held responsible for it."

Walter Nichols, still wearing his jacket, and his wife Audrey Parker-Nichols, who had only returned home a few minutes earlier after working the annual charity telethon at Walter's television station, burst into the room without knocking.

Audrey, with arms crossed, looked at the boys with flames practically shooting from her eyes. "This is your only chance to give your side of the story, before we decide what's to be done. We've talked with this pilot, Vincent, and we don't like what we've heard."

Drake reached out to his mother, begging "Mom, don't take his side. This man's idea of a skydiving lesson was 'S-P-L-A-T! Squat, Pray, Leap, Aaaaah, and Touchdown.'"

Audrey countered with, "Yet you trusted him enough to go anyway, even though we had specifically forbidden you to do so."

Josh broke in with, "It was just for the ride, Mom. Drake had already agreed not to jump. It was his prize, and you only said he couldn't JUMP."

Audrey was not to be distracted. "What do you have to say for yourself, Drake Parker? You use your brother as an alibi, get him mixed up in all this, and now you've got him pleading your case."

Drake tried to explain, "I didn't ask him to follow me or to go up with me. Vinnie suggested that. And I never asked Josh to plead my case. But you should know that Josh saved our lives; we had to share the only parachute. The helicopter didn't have any fuel left. We didn't have a working radio. I wanted to _land_ that helicopter. It's not like we crashed it deliberately. We didn't have any options left."

Josh burst in with, "And Megan hung up on me when I called for help on my cellphone. She told me to call back in half an hour! We didn't _have_ thirty minutes to wait. The alarm was blaring that the tank was **empty**! And don't let her snow you that she didn't know it was an emergency; I was very specific about _that_!"

The boys told their story. They told everything they could think of. They answered every question that their parents asked. They felt as though they were on a crash course to oblivion all over again, judging by their parents' livid faces.

Finally, Walter nodded to Audrey. "Boys, for the next 24 hours, you can consider yourselves under lockdown. Your mother will bring your food. I don't want to hear a peep out of you. The only reason for you to take a step out of this bedroom is to go down the hall to use the bathroom. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

Both boys mumbled "Yes, sir," nodding, and hoping that this was as bad as it would get. The parents retreated.

Josh got off the bed and joined Drake on the couch. "So far, so good?" he asked.

Drake, unsure, replied, "Well, they haven't killed us or even yelled that much . . . yet. Considering."

Josh concluded, "As long as they're talking it over, I guess the jury's still out." Drake shivered, brought his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around his knees. Josh leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Twenty minutes later, Walter returned, without his jacket on, and carrying a large empty box. "Your mother is on the phone with an attorney she knows. She wants to find out if we can legally challenge this pilot and/or his company. We think he was negligent of your safety in the first place, and that you had to take necessary action to save your lives under the circumstances. We may even drag in third-parties, like the makers of _**Helicopper**_ and the p.r. firm that thought up this idiotic promotional stunt. We're not just going to accept this without a fight."

As he talked, he walked around the room. Into the box he placed the television remote and the game controllers. "Give me your cellphones."

Josh reluctantly said, "Uh, Drake's has been broken for a while and mine was … _in_ … the 'copter."

A muscle in Walter's jaw twitched. He nodded briskly, and then he picked up a bag on the shelf by their mini-fridge, which contained assorted junk food, and put this into the box. Next he picked up the house telephone, adding it to the collection. For good measure, he unplugged the keyboard to the desktop PC and took it. He grabbed a stack of books sitting on the desk next to Josh's bed. Everything was loaded into the box.

Hands on his hips, Walter scolded the boys. "Drake, it was your disobedience and stubbornness that is at the root of this whole mess. And Josh, you should know better then to take matters into your own hands. You also knew that Drake was forbidden, and you tried to cover for him, instead of telling your mother the truth."

Walter paced back and forth, scowling.

He continued his lecture, "We have tried to be good parents to you both. We understand that it's natural to want to be independent at your age and that you're at the stage of your life where you want to expand your horizons. But we're almost at our wit's end. We don't know how to make an impression on you. We've grounded you, taken away privileges, put you to work to fix things or to pay them off, and we even placed you in that ill-conceived police-sponsored program."

He placed Josh's laptop into the box, then Drake's red electric guitar. The boys were astounded but dared not protest.

"We almost don't know what to do with you," Walter admitted. "Give me your G-O's, too." These went into the box, along with a portable CD player.

Walter took the now full box and set it in the hallway. "Your mother and I have discussed it, and there's one last thing that we've never done. Our parents certainly never hesitated. But those were different times. I have to admit, I don't know if this will have any impact at all on you, but I hope it will make ME feel a whole lot better." Walter cracked his knuckles, a bad habit that Audrey abhorred, and one he rarely indulged in these days unless he felt he was under a powerful amount of stress.

Pointing to the door, he said, "Josh, go to my bedroom and stay there with your mother until I send for you."

Josh traded looks of uncertainty with Drake, got up and went out the door, which Walter shut behind him. Josh hovered outside his closed bedroom door, trying to listen, but then he saw little Ms. Megan Parker gloating in the hallway.

"Oh, you're gonna get yours, missy, the cat's out of the bag now!" Josh said to her with satisfaction.

Megan's lip curled as she asked, "What do you mean, you boob?"

Audrey came out of the bedroom she shared with her husband and said to Megan, "Go to your room at once. I am so disappointed in you, young lady. How could you hang up on your brother when you knew he and Drake were in peril? And don't tell me you thought it was a joke. Stay in there and wait for me or your father."

Megan frowned and squinted at Josh, a killing look that spoke of revenge to follow, turned and flounced into her room, slamming the door for effect.

Audrey took Josh's arm and steered him to her bedroom. As soon as she had closed the door, she threw her arms around his neck and started to cry, much to Josh's chagrin. "I can't believe I came so close to losing the two of you today," she told him. "How could I console myself, when all I could think is that 'if only the boys hadn't lied to me, maybe I could have saved them'? It would have crushed me, and your father, if you hadn't come back." With a trace of bitterness, Audrey added, "When we first became a family, I remember it used to be impossible for you to lie to me. I guess that's the truest sign that you're growing up. Now you can lie."

Placing his large hands on Audrey's arms, Josh looked down at his pretty little mother and replied softly, "I don't know what to say, except how sorry I am."

She took his face between her hands and looked up into his eyes. "You're a good boy. Soon you'll be a good man, like your father." She mused, "You've grown so tall over the past year," then continued, "I know you wanted to help, to do the right thing. You were trying to protect your brother. And your courage and quick thinking ended up saving the both of you. But I want to lift that burden off your shoulders. You are not Drake's parent. You don't have to make those kinds of decisions. You need to leave them to me and your dad."

She removed her hands from his face, squeezed Josh's hands as she lowered her arms, kissed Josh on both cheeks, and hugged him again. "I'm serious, Josh. I know how Drake tries to twist people around his little finger to get his own way. But you have more power than you think. I know he respects you and cares deeply for you, as any brother would. You mustn't worry that his opinion will change if you need to come and tell us, when he's doing something that you know is foolhardy."

Josh wanted to say that wouldn't make for a good relationship with someone he shared a room and sometimes a bed with but he couldn't think of a way to express himself. He was so upset at the sight of his mother in tears that it drove all coherent thoughts out his head.

Audrey's sobs began to subside. "I don't know if your father ever told you that his oldest brother fought in Viet Nam and had a lot of stories about the choppers."

"Uncle Jimmy?" asked Josh.

"That's right," said Audrey, nodding. "He's the oldest and your father's the youngest, with three in between. That's one of the reasons your dad and I were so dead-set against Drake doing this."

Meanwhile, at the other end of the hallway, Walter's heart clenched in his chest and an icy feeling flooded his nervous system. The thought of how close he'd come to losing his sons nearly made him lightheaded with fear. He recalled when he was a teenager and he and his best pal had gotten drunk and wrecked the family car. They had suffered only minor injuries, but the confrontation later, with his parents, seemed so much worse than the accident itself. He remembered that his father had beaten the snot out of him. He brought himself back to the present moment and sat down on the couch opposite Drake, who was waiting to learn his fate.

Walter didn't yell. He wanted Drake to listen and not tune him out. "Son, your mistakes are growing costlier the older you get. And more dangerous. We can't risk losing you. We have to make you understand that your decisions, your choices in life, come with consequences, and you can't just give in to your impulses all the time. When you lie to us, that tells us that you don't understand our concerns and that you don't respect us." Walter stood up. "We really feel you've left us no choice here."

END PART ONE

Continued in Part Two


	2. Chapter 2

Lest we forget: let me DISCLAIM, that although I adore Drake and Josh, I am not their owner or affiliated with them in any way, and I do not wish to disturb those who do or are, okay? For entertainment purposes only, no profit made nor sought.

Rated: M for Mature, subject matter may be disturbing to younger readers. Special note: slash in part 3 only.

**_CRASH COURSE_**

**_PART TWO – JUST DESSERTS?_**

Walter started unbuckling his belt. He walked around to the back of the couch. "I want you to get up and come around here." Drake warily approached him, his eyes filled with caution. A panicky feeling was swirling around in Drake's belly. Yes, it was panic _and_ dread, mixed together, and he never thought it possible that he could have this feeling so many times in one day.

Walter held the belt firmly in his left hand. He screwed up his courage for what was to happen next. "I want you to drop your pants and bend over the back of the couch," he commanded his stepson, this son he loved because he saw so much of his dear wife in Drake, a wild, free spirit, whose coloring and bone structure matched Audrey's.

This brought forth a stream of resistance from Drake. "Hey, that's child abuse. You can't do that. Don't you think nearly crashing and drowning was punishment enough?"

Walter's expression was stern. He shook his head and gritted his teeth. "Don't make me say it again."

Drake felt his knees turning to jelly as he complied with these never-heard-before instructions, exposing his defenseless boxer-clad hindquarters to an angry and menacing father.

Walter's eyebrows rose in surprise when he saw Drake's smiley-face boxers. Is this what the coolest kids were wearing nowadays? He almost lost his nerve at the sight of the rows of circular yellow smiley-faces staring up at him! Summoning up his inner resolve, Walter told Drake, "My father always used to say 'This hurts me more than it hurts you.' Well, I'm not going to say that."

Digging back into memories that had been long suppressed, Walter did his best to imitate his own father and administer a sound and thorough whipping, bringing the belt repeatedly into contact with Drake's nether regions. He knew Drake was doing his best not to react or cry out. Walter kept striking until he had exceeded the limits of the boy's self-control and his stepson started to writhe and whimper under the repeated sting of the belt's onslaught. At that point Walter stopped, just as his own father did, and he realized with extreme regret that it _didn't _make him feel better. Not one little bit.

Drake was mad, humiliated and in more pain than he wanted to let on. As he scrambled shakily to his feet and yanked up his trousers, he shouted "I'm glad you're not my REAL father. I'll bet you wish I had just drowned. That way I couldn't make any more trouble for you."

Walter had expected exactly this kind of reaction and didn't let these words pierce him. He said sadly, "If that's what you think, then I really _haven't_ gotten through to you after all. Just go to your mother so she can send Josh in here."

Drake hobbled a little bit as he stomped down the hall, wishing his jeans weren't so tight, and knocked at his mother's bedroom door. He pushed the door open when there was no answer and found Josh sitting at their mother's vanity, randomly looking through her things.

"Where's Mom?" Drake asked.

Josh hadn't heard the knock and was startled at the sound of Drake's voice. He dropped the little box of loose perfumed powder he'd held and spilled its contents all over the top of the dresser. He tried to scoop some of it up with his hands, forcing it back into the round box. Looking at Drake via his own reflection in the tabletop mirror, he told his brother, "Here's a bright spot - she's in there giving it to Megan for hanging up on me."

Drake stated bitterly, "As far as I'm concerned I don't even _have _a sister any more. Or a father."

Knowing that Drake had just come from an unknown type of encounter with their dad, Josh inquired, "Was it rough?"

Before Drake could answer, Audrey reappeared and told Josh to go.

Josh wasn't looking forward to this meeting at all and took his time going down the hall, especially after registering Drake's vehement reaction – to what? He didn't know what to expect. When he entered his room, Walter was there, half sitting on the back of the couch, facing the door, staring into space, holding a belt. To Josh's eyes, his father's face looked haggard and drawn. Josh had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Walter beckoned Josh in and said, "I just want to make it clear that this is for the principle of the thing. We know you lied and we know why. But the bottom line is that you still put yourself and your brother in extreme jeopardy. I want to make absolutely sure that nothing like this ever happens again. If you had gotten hurt or worse -- I can't stand to think of it. You should know that we are strongly considering separating the two of you. We can move Megan in here and then put each one of you in the remaining bedrooms."

Josh's heart sank at that thought, but he didn't say a thing. If he acted like it bothered him very much, that might be the tipping point that brought it about.

Walter continued. "We feel that we don't have much choice. We'd rather have you alive and miserable than take the chance at losing you forever. Now let's get this over with." Walter almost considered Josh an extension of himself. He was very proud of Josh's achievements and considered Josh to be more intelligent than he himself was. He knew what it was like to be a dufus, and was especially pleased that Josh had managed to navigate the high school years successfully, becoming more confident and emerging as a student leader with well-rounded interests and a healthier lifestyle. He really didn't want to punish Josh at all, he was so relieved his sons were alive, but he knew he had to play the heavy tonight; Audrey was so upset, she just wasn't up to the task. So Audrey got to treat them like the prodigal sons that they truly were, cherishing them and celebrating their safe return to the fold.

Walter sighed deeply and gave Josh the same instructions he'd given Drake. A nervous tingle of fear started at Josh's scalp and passed through his entire body. Although he didn't want to, he obeyed and was careful not to meet his father's eyes. Josh had seen his dad angry plenty of times, but never quite like this. Josh steeled himself for what was to come.

Walter's arm must have been tired; he was swinging wildly. He wasn't even sure if he was doing it right, since he'd never done it before this terrible day, and promised himself he'd never do it again. But he made every effort to give Josh exactly the same treatment that Drake had received, in order to be fair.

When he was done with Josh, Walter made a fast exit from the boys' room. The muscles in his shoulder and his arm were on fire and he was breathing heavily and sweating and Christ, his hands were shaking. With heavy steps he went to his "study" (the guest bedroom on the ground floor) and eased himself into the swivel chair. He threw the belt onto the daybed, as if it was poisonous. His hemorrhoids were bothering him tonight. He pulled open the desk drawer and fished out a pint of Scotch whiskey. This was one time he HAD to have a drink. He took a hard swig and sighed again. He knew that if Audrey had finished talking to Drake, she'd either be prone on their bed crying some more or in the kitchen, still crying, and fixing the children something to eat. Either way, he wanted to be alone now.

Walter reviewed his memories of this house, filled with the sound of the boys, laughing or fighting, running in and out, and he chuckled silently at their energy and the enthusiasm they expressed for the silliest darned things. Another jolt of anxiety shot through him at the thought his boys might very well be dead now, lost in a watery grave.

Walter's shock and confusion over Megan's actions made him not want to deal with her, either – leave that to her mother, for now. He doted on his little girl. Because he'd missed her earliest years, he was especially attentive now. He didn't think there were too many fathers who'd listen with rapt attention to discussions about ponies, or sit gazing fondly at their daughter's sticker collection. His friends at the station told him that girls were always easier in the early years, but watch out when they reached their teens. Could Megan possibly get into any more trouble than Josh and Drake? He was not looking forward to that.

He set the glass bottle on the desk and reached into the drawer, pulling out a blunt. He lit the small cigar and inhaled. Audrey's rule was no smoking in the house, but with the help of some powerful air freshener and considering the inauspicious occasion, he hoped she'd forgive him for the indiscretion. Suddenly he felt . . . old. He reached for the bottle one more time and took another long pull on the fiery liquid. Sometimes, he thought, it downright _sucks_ to be a parent.

Up in the marital bedroom, Audrey paced back and forth and said, "Drake, I hardly know what to say to you."

Drake indicated the mess on the vanity and said, "Uh, Josh spilled that powder because I startled him. It was an accident. Do you want me to clean it up for you?"

Audrey waved her hand dismissively and replied, "It's not important right now. I never saw a boy who startled so easily, as jumpy as a cat. But speaking of your brother, I want you to promise me that you won't put him in that position again. I'm sure you've already done it plenty of times before. You are not to use him as an alibi. It is so unfair. I don't know what it is that makes him question his usually good judgment when you're involved."

Drake remained standing and was sure that his mother knew the reason why he couldn't sit down. He said to her, trying not to seem flippant, "It's just like when you and Dad play good cop/bad cop with us. Only you label Josh the good son and I'm the bad one. You're the ones always trying to make him into Little Mister Perfect. He doesn't want to be perfect, he wants to be himself and get out and experience life; I just make it a little easier for him. He's under a lot of pressure most of the time. Your expectations of me aren't as high, so I'm not as stressed out."

Audrey took in Drake's opinion; it was rare for him to confide in her like this. The boys were closemouthed about their relationship and their thoughts regarding one another - unless they were fighting and then she only got their complaints. Then Audrey fumed a little, "I hope you're thankful, then, that I'm the good cop tonight, or you'd be getting a lot worse than Walter has to offer. Remember the time you ruined Aunt Libby's velvet painting? I'll say no more."

Drake could still recall the smarting pains from the ruler she had wielded like a ninja and considered himself lucky she wasn't in _that_ mood tonight.

Audrey flashed back to the first time her parents had caught her in a really big lie. She had told them she was spending the night at her friend Teresa's house, when she was really out with her new boyfriend. They'd gone to a wild party and afterwards had hot, crazy sex in the backseat of his car. They slept for a few hours and then went to a diner across town for a late breakfast, where nobody their parents knew would be likely to see them. When she returned home, both her parents were waiting for her on the front porch. The looks on their faces! At that time, all she could see was their anger and disappointment; now they knew she wasn't their good girl anymore. She recognized the look, and the feeling in herself, as a parent: she knew her son was growing up and away from her and soon wouldn't be under her control or influence at all. She felt . . . useless. That all the love and care she had put into raising her children had been for naught.

She crossed her arms across her chest and told Drake, "I'm sorry that I've failed you as a mother. Whatever I've done to try and give you an internal compass to guide you, to base your decisions on . . . apparently has been . . . ineffective."

Drake lifted his hands in surrender and said, "Don't say that."

Audrey forged ahead. "Drake, you act like you don't have a lick of sense. And your dad and I felt like this was our _last chance_ to lick some sense into you. Obviously we're very upset about the prospect of paying for a $400,000 helicopter. That will ruin us financially. And getting a lawyer to fight it is going to be very costly. I'm going to have to put in more hours than ever at my job. We just finished paying for the little adventure the 3 of you had in L.A. last summer. Walter and I might even have to take on second jobs, yet we hesitate leaving you alone more than we already do. We just don't know what you'll be getting up to."

Audrey's face was already puffy from crying. She was doing her best to be authoritative with Drake, but her worry over his safety kept surging back, as she thought about what might have happened. The tears started flowing again, and mucus dripped freely from her nose. Drake brought her a tissue. She wiped her face and started shaking.

"Oh, Mom, please calm down. If it makes you feel better, you can take a strap to me, too. It hurts me to see you like this," Drake begged her, feeling helpless.

Still crying, Audrey answered, with a shudder, "Well, this is how I _GET_ when my sons nearly plummet to their deaths from 7,000 feet!"

Drake embraced her tightly, murmuring "I'm sorry" and "Please stop crying" and "It's okay now" and started rocking slightly and stroking her back as if he was the parent. She had always been the rock of the family, a pillar of strength, imperturbable, calling the tune, and now she seemed small and slight, as if her heart was breaking. She started to hug him back. With her hands she felt him all over as though she was checking for broken bones or to make sure he was in one piece. She kissed the base of his neck. She thought back to when he was a baby and she could lift him in her arms, that spot on his neck was where she always kissed him, because it made him giggle. She started to collect herself. She kissed him again, for good measure, and stepped back.

She sniffled and told Drake, staring into his eyes, "I love you so much. I don't think you'll be able to understand until you have your own child, but just know that everything we do is motivated by our love and concern for you. Wait five minutes and go to your room. I'll bring you some soup and sandwiches in a little while."

She saw the tears shining in Drake's eyes, which he tried to blink away. She stroked his cheek, squeezed his arm, and left him standing there. She wondered if her face had looked that way to her parents after they had finished punishing her for her night out.

Drake heard his mother going down the stairs, and then he stared at the clock for the longest five minutes, replaying the events of the day in his mind. Next Drake stopped at Megan's room. He threw open the door and announced, "I hope you know you're the _worst_. I hate you. I've had to put up with your nasty pranks for years, but now that you've shown your evil little heart is so mean that you'd let me and Josh _die _- so you could talk about stupid stickers – well, just know that I'm DONE with you!" Megan looked stunned. He slammed the door shut before she could mouth off about it. Such a demon, he thought. With what little dignity he had left, Drake stumbled back to his room.

END PART TWO

Continued in Part Three


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER – exclaiming that I am not the proud owner of the best show ever, _Drake and Josh_, although I'd certainly like to be, and will heartily miss it; the following nonsense is for amusement only and not profit.

RATED – M for Mature, that's for slash (male/male) content, in this chapter only, so if you don't like, don't read!

_**CRASH COURSE**_

_**PART THREE – YOU SAVED ME**_

When Drake came into the bedroom, he saw that Josh was on the bed, in his pajamas, on his stomach, propped up on his forearms, turning the pages of a magazine. Josh was facing out towards the room, away from the window. His eyes saw the words and pictures but his brain failed to sort out the symbols and images. He looked up at Drake with a solemn expression on his face. Sunburn was starting to come out on his face from the time they'd spent in the sea. Drake figured his own face must look the same because it felt hot and sore. Too bad they couldn't have used Josh's SPF 100 sunscreen. So many things had gone wrong today.

Drake went to his closet, pulled out a duffel bag, and started cramming clothes into it, as Josh watched.

"What are you doing?" asked an incredulous Josh.

Impatiently Drake replied, "I'm not staying _here_. I won't stand for this kind of treatment."

"Yes, you will!" interrupted Josh.

"No. I'm out that window and it's 'goodbye' forever," Drake insisted.

"You're running away?" Josh inquired in disbelief.

"What you see is what you get," Drake answered, as he counted the money he had stashed away in a shoe.

Josh, attempting to be reasonable, asked "What's that going to solve?

Drake replied, in distress, "I can't take it. My mother more or less tells me I've broken her heart. Our dad flips out with a belt. Why didn't they just drop me off at the bus station and say 'see ya' if they hate me so much?"

Josh hugged his special pillow and exclaimed, "Hate you? Have we been on the same planet for the last two hours?" Josh explained patiently, "Our parents have done everything they can to show us how much they love and care for us. Sure they're pissed off about the lies, but they've had a terrible fright, too. That was their worst fear about the whole helicopter incident, that our lives would be endangered. Then there's the potential expense on top of everything. They're responsible for our screw-ups but they're sticking by us and trying to think of a way to settle the matter."

Drake continued to pack, turning to his bureau drawers for more clothes. "Okay," Drake admitted. "But I'm so filled with guilt and _ashamed_, after what happened, I want to . . . explode! At least if I'm out of this house, I can run away from these feelings that I don't like."

Josh stood up very carefully. He continued speaking, while mentally preparing himself to block the window, if necessary. "Stop and think for a minute. If you defy them now, that's going to force their hand. They'll HAVE to separate us then."

Drake stopped in his tracks and whined "What?"

Josh dropped the bomb. "Dad told me they're thinking of putting us in separate bedrooms. You didn't know this?"

Drake's whole demeanor changed. He stopped packing. After nearly losing Josh (and himself) permanently, he couldn't bear the thought of losing Josh again in this way. He said mournfully, "He never told me. Neither did Mom." Then Drake wanted to know, "How did you respond?"

Drake promptly shoved the bag back into the bottom of his closet. Josh settled himself back onto the bed. As Josh talked, Drake got out his sleeping attire and put it on, easing the jams up over his aching bum, relieved at last to get out of the restrictive denim.

"I kept quiet. I was afraid if I made a big stink about it, then Dad would know how much it upset me, and I didn't want to hand him another way to make me miserable," said Josh, ramping up into his _emphasis_ mode. "'Cause I'm telling you, my misery compartment is full to overflowing tonight!"

Drake got on the bed next to Josh, gingerly, and also lay down on his stomach.

"Did Dad beat on you?" Drake asked, concerned. He realized now that maybe he hadn't been singled out for this disturbing punishment.

"Yes," Josh answered, wincing. "And I think he hit me with the buckle a few times by accident."

Drake said, "Let me see," and without waiting for an answer, pulled up the back of Josh's pants. "Oh, wow. There's blood in two spots and you've got stripes."

Drake stood up and bared his own butt for Josh to take a look.

"Yuh-huh, just like a zebra," Josh told him.

Drake was seized with a fresh burst of outrage. "Child abuse! I'm just saying - there are laws! I mean, _we're_ the innocent victims here. Didn't they think that falling from the sky and being stranded in the Pacific Ocean was traumatic enough?"

Audrey entered, carrying a tray, to find Drake standing there, attempting to look over his left shoulder at his own bared bottom. Normally, like most teenaged boys, he would have been very shy around his mother and would prevent her seeing any part of his body unclothed. This was most definitely not a normal night.

"Look, Mom! Look what Walter did!" Drake complained to Audrey, frowning.

While Audrey really was appalled at the sight of welts on her offspring's backside, she knew she couldn't cave at this stage of the game and said sarcastically "I think he missed a few spots. Do you want me to take care of that for you? I'm not wearing a belt, but I'm sure I could use my hands. Or go find a yardstick." She put the tray down and took a step towards him.

In response Drake pouted and pulled up his checkered lounge pants.

Indicating the tray that she had set on their coffee table, she said "Here's the food I promised. I also brought you a couple of icepacks. And it looks like you also need some aloe for sunburn."

She left the room to go and get it, returning pronto from the bathroom. She was trying to keep it light, but her eyes were very red from weeping. She offered to apply the aloe, but Josh told her they'd manage.

Once she'd gone, Josh stated, "I swear that got to me worse than anything. Mom crying like that."

"Definitely," agreed Drake, picking up a sandwich and taking a big bite.

"So I guess it was the usual good cop / bad cop routine for both of us? I didn't like being separated. It made me . . . uneasy," continued Josh, as he came down a level to check the food.

The boys ate standing up. They were very hungry and wolfed down the food quickly: ham and cheese sandwiches and vegetable soup. Drake was jubilant that Walter hadn't raided the inside of their little refrigerator and brought out some chocolate-frosted cream-filled doodle cakes and 2 cans of root beer.

Handing a drink to Josh, Drake said, "Well, my brotha, we have no pudding, but here's a toast: we looked at death in the face and lived to tell the tale."

Indicating the cupcake, Josh said, "You know I can't have stuff like that."

Drake found it ridiculous that Josh was thinking of his diet this night, saying, "Oh, what the hell. Live a little." Drake got the wrapper off one of the treats, broke it in half and shoved it into Josh's mouth, smearing the chocolate as he did so.

Josh ate it and admitted, "It's gooood!"

"Here let me get that chocolate for you," Drake said, pulling Josh's face down a little so he could reach his mouth. Drake licked at the chocolate on and around Josh's lips, and then started to kiss him. In response, Josh's hands tightened around Drake's waist and he emitted a gravelly chuckle. He growled softly, "So you want to give me some _sugar_, too, to celebrate our victory over death's cold sting?" He started to return Drake's peck on the lips.

"You know it. But my aches and pains are preventing me. I'm just going for the chocolate right now," Drake replied, honestly.

"Alrighty then, it's paws off," Josh answered, releasing Drake's waist. "Let's see if we can sit on these icepacks and watch some TV. We can't play any DVD's without the remote. But maybe it would be okay if we watch TV with the sound off."

Sitting on the icepacks was too uncomfortable, and only made it hurt worse. So they moved the television set on its rolling stand up onto the level with Josh's bed. Lying on their stomachs, side by side, crosswise on top of Josh's covers, in their PJ's, they made up their own, funny dialogue to the reality program, _**Celebrities in Jail**_. They had laid the ice packs across their butt cheeks. And that's how Audrey found them an hour later, asleep. She turned off the TV, unplugged it and rolled it out of the bedroom. Then she saw that Walter had missed Drake's acoustic guitar and took it. They had many hours to go on their lockdown. Lastly, she removed the tray and the icepacks and turned out the lights, thankful that she still had two sons to look after. She wasn't going to let them get themselves killed on her watch, even if she had to kill them herself in the first place.

Drake started moaning and muttering in his sleep, and fitfully turning, which woke Josh. He switched on the lava lamp that Drake had bought him to replace the one that got broken during Drake's indoor golf tournament. He shook Drake gently, thinking maybe he was having a bad dream. "Dude, you okay?" whispered Josh.

"Erm, yes. But I was having an _awful_ nightmare," Drake answered, rubbing his eyes, glad to be returning to wakefulness.

"Well, I have to pee like a race horse," Josh told him, as he got up from the bed. They both noticed the TV was gone.

"I'm coming with you," Drake insisted. "They are not separating us."

The boys went to the bathroom and relieved themselves, then washed up and brushed their teeth, while Drake recounted his dream. "We fought over something or other and decided we would never speak to each other again. I was on a lifeboat on the ocean, getting farther and farther away from shore. I kept looking for you and calling you."

They tiptoed soundlessly back to their room. Once inside, Drake wedged the desk chair under the doorknob. Josh got out the aloe and applied it to their red faces, as Drake continued his tale. "Then I realized that you weren't going to answer even if you heard me, because we had disagreed. I saw sharks swimming all around my boat. A pretty girl appeared in the boat with me, who said she was my date. I didn't bother asking her name. Every time I looked at her, her face changed into someone else. She told me you had drowned! She was useless to me and I wanted to throw _her_ to the sharks. But I was so unhappy that you were dead, I couldn't do anything. So I just sat there, because I knew there was no going back. I hadn't been able to save you."

Drake grew more distraught as he recounted the details. Josh chafed Drake's arms and reassured him, "Hey. Come back! I'm right here. We're home. We're alive. We won't let them separate us. No wonder you're having bad dreams, after what we went through."

Drake hugged Josh and started tugging on Josh's shirt, saying "You saved my life. I couldn't have jumped without you. I was paralyzed by a fear of heights. Who knew? You are my hero."

Josh took his shirt off. "We saved each other. You saved me when the parachute was dragging me under the waves and you helped me unhook it. I don't think I've ever been so scared before. Every time I close my eyes, I keep hearing the spinning blades and then the sound of all that heavy machinery hitting the surface."

Drake removed his own shirt. "When I got too tired, you held my head up so I could breathe and you let me float while you swam so I could rest." Drake reached for the drawstring on Josh's lounge pants, repeating, "You saved me, man."

Josh answered, "You were the one who spent all that time teaching me to swim when we were younger. Without you, I never would have gotten onto the swim team. And you were the one who found the parachute in the helicopter; I was in such a state, I forgot to look. You saved me."

Soon they were free of all clothing, standing together, in a full-body embrace. This time Josh found a welcome response to his kisses. Tonight they were oh so tender and careful and slow with each other, by the dim blue light of the lava lamp. Drake guided Josh backwards towards the closet door, so that his back was up against the cupboard door, without pressing his buttocks into the door. Drake knelt down between Josh's legs and ran his hands down Josh's muscular thighs, now tensed from standing and leaning back. Drake kissed along Josh's inner thighs, tasting the sea salt on his skin, still smelling like the ocean. With one hand Drake fondled Josh's sack and he used the other hand to squeeze and stroke Josh's dick while his mouth teased at the tip. It felt so wonderful, Josh had to press his hands against the door for more support, as his knees wanted to collapse. Drake used the tip of his tongue along the underside of Josh's erection. Drake folded his lips over his teeth and started sucking, first just the head, then alternating that with moving his mouth up and down the shaft. He was careful and gentle and Josh put one of his own hands in his mouth and bit on his fingers to keep from making any loud noises in response to the dynamite blow job he was receiving. When he felt himself nearing a climax, he touched Drake's shoulder and stopped him.

Kneeling down, he held Drake and whispered, "I want us to come together this time."

Josh reached over onto the bed and pulled Mr. Puff Puff to the edge. He picked Drake up and sat down on the pillow. It hurt but the pain was not unbearable. He opened his legs so that his lap disappeared and Drake sank down a bit into the space between his legs, so there was nothing touching Drake's battered rear end. Josh fleetingly recalled the image of Michelangelo's sculpture _Pieta_. Drake snaked his arms around Josh's neck.

Josh said in a low, thick voice, "How could you think for one minute that I was going to jump out of that helicopter without my Twinklepuff?" They kissed, softly and sweetly, their open mouths pairing like satin and silk, without rushing; it was as if time itself had stopped and they were crossing over into a sacred space. Drake could feel Josh's hard length pressing against his right thigh. Drake leaned back with Josh's left arm around him, supporting and holding him, as Josh's right thumb and forefinger made a tight "O" around Drake's throbbing member. Josh proceeded to stroke in this manner until Drake was sighing with pleasure, between kisses.

Then Josh pulled Drake on top of himself as he leaned back onto the bed. Soon they were doing the sex ballet, their hips grinding together. Drake supported himself on his forearms while he used his mouth to work Josh's nipples. Josh palmed Drake's ass without thinking, and then pulled his hands back, saying "Sorry." Drake guided Josh's hands back to where they'd just been, but Josh didn't squeeze or apply any pressure. Josh sympathized, "You've got no meat, no padding, it must have been so painful."

"It was," Drake answered, stopping his movements to talk. "Frankly, I liked it a lot better when it was just you, with the ping pong paddle."

"Oh, you did?" asked Josh, surprised by this revelation. "Why's that?"

"That was a payback, pure and simple," Drake told him, "and besides, I was sure at that point I was bound to be getting the make-up sex I was craving. You weren't hurting me – much. As far as I was concerned, it was a new form of foreplay. And you were so apologetic and you babied me afterwards," Drake said, stroking Josh's face. Josh filed this bit of information away for future reference.

Drake closed in for another prolonged kissing session. Josh had such beautiful, inviting lips. Drake's fine, straight hair brushed across Josh's face. They drank each other's mouths and swallowed each other's tongues, almost forgetting to breathe. Drake came up for air and told Josh, "When you touched my butt, I was afraid you'd make me pee – in mid-air! I didn't want that to be your last memory of me. That's the only reason I mentioned it. I let loose as soon as I hit the water."

"I didn't even mean to touch your butt," Josh said. "I was busy trying to remember how many seconds to count before using the ripcord, wondering whether or not I'd pulled it at the right time. Vinnie never told us _that_, did he?" Josh caressed Drake's back and shoulders and the nape of his neck, saying, "You were hooked on in front of me just like a little baby in one of those pouch thingies." Then Josh wanted to tease, so he nibbled on Drake's earlobe and asked, "You _are_ Joshie's little baby, aren't you?" Josh kissed the base of Drake's neck, eliciting a giggle.

"The HOTTEST little baby, and _all yours_," purred Drake, then said in his 'tempter' voice, "Would you like to see my tummy?" Josh didn't need to answer this in-joke between them, so he just rubbed his hand over said tummy, each time he circled, stopping for a few friendly wanks to both their pricks.

Their eyes met. They said simultaneously and spontaneously, "I love you." And then answered each other, "I know." Sometimes they were almost telepathic with each other, and not infrequently said the same things at the same time.

Drake wrapped his arms tightly around Josh's torso and rested his head on Josh's chest, listening to his heartbeat. It sounded just like the waves hitting the shoreline. He rotated his pelvis this way and that, their cocks touching, being rubbed to joy abounding between their bodies.

The sudden pressure as Drake began to thrust with force and rhythm sent a searing burst of pain through Josh's glutes. "Hold up, I have to make an adjustment," he advised Drake. Josh's feet were still flat on the floor, so he inched his way forward, past the edge of the bed, keeping his _gluteus maximus_ from touching the pillow or mattress. Drake lowered his feet so that his toes and the balls of his feet were also resting on the floor. Josh was supporting the weight of both their bodies, thus allowing Drake to keep up the frottage, as Drake gripped Josh's arms. When they were both in place, Josh said, "You set the pace," which Drake did, gradually building the momentum. Their kisses and movements were now punctuated by nonstop declarations of "I love you" and "You saved me" until they no longer knew where one ended and the other began, as their breathing turned into raspy panting, and the sweet sensations of the flesh and the soul, the heart and the groin, inevitably led them towards a hot, fluid burst of ecstasy as they both exploded within seconds of each other. They savored the not unwelcome emotional nature of this coupling, and, although this was rare for them, it definitely seemed appropriate to the day's dramatic events. They rested tranquilly in the afterglow with nothing else to say until Josh's leg muscles started to cramp.

Then Drake got up, found some paper towels and cleaned them both up. They shared another can of root beer and crawled under Josh's comforter and lay on their sides, facing each other, holding hands. Spooning would have been too uncomfortable this time. Drake smiled and said, in jest, "You know, none of this would ever have happened if you'd given me those free movie tickets in the first place."

Josh guffawed but pretended to be irate and made a face, "Uh-oh, I better go and get that ping pong paddle!"

"You do know I was only kidding?" Drake quickly added. "I'm sorry I tried to make you mad by making out with that blue shirt girl in front of you."

"Oh, I was jealous. Register 5 won't be back for another two weeks. She's on that archeological dig in Central America for her anthropology credit. Believe me, brotha, you can't jack off to a postcard."

"I meant jealous of _her_, not of _me_," Drake said, finding the tables turned.

"Well, no spanks this time. But I _am_ taking you on a quick trip to the noogie factory . . . " Josh replied as he got Drake in a headlock with one arm and rubbed the knuckles of his other hand across the top of Drake's skull. That served as an open invitation to _tussle_!

They started to wrestle. Now the boys had been in a secret, sexual relationship for about ten months. Their lovemaking had run the gamut from exploratory, lustful, needy, urgent, fast and rough, friendly, playful, apologetic, comforting and now, tonight, especially tender and slow. They were so used to each other: Drake liked to bite, and play games, and enjoyed the thrill of risking discovery, while Josh had a yen for outdoor sex, leaving suggestive notes, and talking dirty. Some of their favorite trysting places, besides their own bedroom, were Robbie Carmichael's tree house, the cemetery, the beach and the golf course. They jokingly kidded about Josh's famous "hole in one." Although they were the masters of the quiet fuck, sometimes even timing their intimacy to coincide with that of their noisier parents down the hall, their play fighting was anything BUT quiet. The covers flew off the bed and their laughter and comments grew louder as they tumbled around, slapping, punching, flicking and pinching, frolicking in the cool blue glow, and trying to ignore painful reactions whenever their back ends came in contact with anything. Suddenly the doorknob was jiggling and they heard Audrey, demanding to know "What's going on in there?"

Drake pressed his hand lightly over Josh's mouth and answered his mother. "Josh was having a bad dream. About the helicopter. I was just getting him to snap out of it. You and Walter keep telling us how frightened it made you. But WE were the ones who went through it. Can you imagine how scared WE were? I'm thinking we might be scarred for life . . . "

Audrey told them, "I'm going to bring you some hot milk. This door better be open by the time I get back."

The boys collected their discarded pajamas and got dressed. They made Josh's bed, took the chair away from the door, turned on the lights and arranged themselves on the couch as best they could to wait for their mother's return.

END PART THREE

Continued in Part Four


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: Thanks to all of you interested readers who PM'd and emailed me. I had some emergencies of my own to deal with, causing a delay in completing this final portion of the story. Thanks for your patience. I hope you'll enjoy it!

The all-important **Disclaimer**: I do not claim affiliation with or ownership of _Drake and Josh_ (although I'd sure like to!). No profit is made nor sought by me.

**Rating**: M for Mature; content may be upsetting for younger readers; slash found only in Part Three.

_**CRASH COURSE**_

_**PART FOUR – GENTLEMEN'S AGREEMENT**_

Audrey, in her ratty pink bathrobe and pajamas, brought the boys a tray bearing three big cups of steaming milk. She put the tray down on the table and sat in the middle of the couch between the two boys, who were perched between the throw pillows and the arms of the sofa.

"We didn't mean to wake you, we were just fooling around a little," Josh said.

"Don't worry about it. I don't sleep very soundly when Walter's not beside me," she replied, handing each son a mug, and taking one for herself. She saw their puzzled looks and told them, "He was in his study all evening, and when I knocked, he said he was feeling a bit queasy and wanted to rest in there a while before coming upstairs to bed."

As they all sipped their milk, Audrey told them she hoped it would help them relax enough so that they would be able to have a good night's sleep. She listened attentively and with more sympathy than before as they recounted, again, the adventure they'd had that day. She told them about the conversation she had with the lawyer. "He says that by not having three parachutes on board when he took you up, the pilot was in clear violation of FAA regulations, so it looks like we have a fighting chance."

Audrey also informed them, "I think I'm going to make an appointment with Dr. Stein for the both of you. You could be experiencing post-traumatic stress syndrome."

"Oh," Josh chimed in, "I saw that on _**Oprah**_!" He couldn't believe he'd _finally_ get to meet this Dr. Stein.

Drake rolled his eyes but remained silent at that. The soothing milk, his mother exhibiting her usual nurturing side, combined with his normal post-sex fatigue, all were making him sleepy and he couldn't stop yawning. Noting this reaction, Audrey was pleased. "Why don't you get into bed right now? You are in need of a nice, long sleep," she urged Drake.

Drake had every intention of sleeping with Josh through the night, but knew he would have to wait until Audrey left, if he could stay awake long enough. He climbed up the ladder to his bed and got in as she had suggested. Josh and their mother continued talking, in low voices, and he felt himself starting to drift off. Josh could always get in with him later, if he fell asleep. The two of them being together in the smaller bed made it that much cozier.

Josh was still hungry and asked Audrey for some melon (for himself) and grapes (for Drake). "I'd volunteer to get them myself –"

Audrey pursed her lips and stopped him, "Right – the lockdown. I don't mind getting it for you. I need to take these things downstairs and check on your father, anyway." She gathered up the tray and mugs and headed out.

Josh didn't have long to wait. Audrey stood in the doorway to their room, urgently beckoning for Josh, "Josh, hurry! Come see – I think something's wrong with your father. Are you up to date on your CPR?" Josh nodded affirmatively, as he ran out after Audrey, following her down the steps. "He's all clammy and he doesn't look right. He says his throat is tight, he's dizzy and his heart feels . . . fluttery," Audrey rushed to explain to Josh.

For the second time that night, Drake was awakened by Josh shaking him firmly. "Huh?" Drake tried to get his eyes to focus; he'd been in a dreamless deep sleep. He saw that Josh was fully clothed and not, as hoped, trying to shift him aside, in order to join him in bed.

"Listen, Mom told me not to wake you. But I wanted you to know. The paramedics are here," Josh told him. Drake's expression queried "_What_?" so Josh continued, "They've come to take Dad to the emergency room. Something weird's going on with his heart."

"It's that serious – and Mom told you not to wake me?" Drake asked.

Josh answered hastily, "They've got to do some tests right away so they can find out how to fix whatever it is. She said there'd be no sense in four of us hanging around waiting. Mom wanted you to keep resting, since you were already asleep. But since we're a family, I thought you ought to know, so you can get dressed and get Megan up. I can drive over with Mom, if you want to come later."

"Sure. Okay. I'll handle Megan. But is he conscious? Can he talk?" Drake inquired, as he stepped down the ladder.

"Yes. He feels sick, though; he knows something's wrong. As near as I can tell, his pulse keeps racing, twice as fast as it should. Mom called me down for CPR, but he didn't need that." As Josh spoke, Drake pulled on a clean t-shirt. Then he turned to go and stopped at the bedroom door. "So if I go down and see him, I'm not going to get tasered or something for crossing this threshold?"

"I don't think so. But don't quote me," Josh answered, fretting, and following Drake.

When Drake got downstairs, he was greeted by the sight of his stepfather on a stretcher being wheeled out the front door. Drake dashed out after them and caught up, so Walter could see him. Walter looked ghastly! His skin appeared grayish green and his lips were white. While the EMS team got ready to shift him into the ambulance, Drake caught at Walter's arm. "Dad, I didn't mean what I said earlier."

Walter managed a slight nod and a wan smile in response. "I know," he answered. "I'm sorry, too."

"But you had every right to – to do what you did -," then, as an afterthought Drake blurted out, "and I'm the one who ate your fancy French pork chop. I thought you should know."

"Ah!" and the twinkle came back momentarily into Walter's eye, as he made a mock-stern "angry dad" face, at the same time squeezing Drake's hand, to show that he understood and that things were good between them.

Audrey pulled Drake back so the paramedics could get her husband into the ambulance and set up with oxygen. She told Drake, "Your choice: either go back to bed or get yourself and your sister dressed and meet us at the hospital." Audrey gave him a nudge on the tush, forgetting, and got a loud "Ow!" for her efforts.

One of the members of the medical response team told Audrey and the boys, "The main symptom here is called tachycardia, which is an exceptionally rapid pulse rate: the possible result of misfiring by the electrical timing mechanism in the upper chambers of the heart. We have to take an ECG to be sure. And then the doctor will determine the best course of action. There are five different drugs that can be used to slow the pulse back down to normal. Sometimes the heart even re-sets itself on its own. But of course you'll want to know if this will be an ongoing problem that requires monitoring and treatment."

The other paramedic signaled that Walter was hooked up with oxygen and ready to go.

"I'll see you there, then?" Josh said to Drake.

Nodding affirmatively, Drake responded, "Right. As fast as I can get Megan moving, we'll get there."

Josh shepherded Audrey towards the SUV and Drake went back into the house, sprinting up the steps to the bedrooms.

As he finished dressing, Drake considered spraying Megan with a water gun, since _she_ always seemed to prefer this method of waking people. He also thought a few whacks with his golf putter might be in order. Then, it was as though he was replaying one of Walter's many lectures in his head, about what it meant to be a man, and a gentleman, at that. He sighed, just when he had Megan right where he wanted her, his conscience had to kick in. He went into her room and stood by her bed and started massaging her foot, softly calling her, "Megs, wake up!"

Megan had been sound asleep, dreaming of puppies and bunnies and unicorns for once, instead of world domination. Before her normal spitefulness could fully assert itself, she sat up and said in a small voice, "What?"

As if it was their father speaking, Drake said kindly and firmly, "I need you to get dressed as fast as you can and meet me in the garage. We're going to the hospital to be with Josh and Mom, while we wait to find out what's going on with Dad."

Still half asleep, Megan blinked a few times, asking "Something's wrong with Daddy? Is he sick or hurt?"

Walter often said that the female sex needed to be treated with consideration and respect, since they couldn't ever be completely understood. Remembering to be patient and polite with womenfolk, he felt as if he was channeling Walter and told Megan calmly, "I'm sure once he gets the proper medical attention, he's going to be just fine. Don't waste any time worrying. Let's just get going, okay? We need to stick together as a family."

In a fog, Megan pushed back her covers and started to get out of bed. "Alright, Drake. It will just take me a minute." If only she could be this agreeable and cooperative all the time, he wouldn't mind having a little sister.

When Drake and Megan found them, Audrey was sitting in the heart center waiting area, while Josh paced back and forth. Megan curled up on the couch next to Audrey, wanting to get back to her fluffy dreams. The triage nurse came out and told them, "The attending physician will be with you shortly, to get a medical history."

To their surprise, the doctor was none other than their neighbor, Jeffrey Glazer. "Now I just need to ask you a few questions, so we can get started. Your husband is complaining about pains in his left arm and shoulder. First, was he doing anything out of the ordinary this evening, anything that you would consider an unusual physical exertion?"

Drake spoke up quickly before Audrey could formulate a reply, "He was passing the football with us –

" – in the back yard –" added Josh immediately.

Drake completed the thought, " – and he's left-handed."

"I see. Was he under any kind of extraordinary stress?" continued Dr. Glazer, jotting something on a form on his clipboard.

Audrey chose her words carefully, saying "We just learned of a potential financial burden we may have to assume. That was very much on his mind."

"Yes," said Dr. Glazer, still taking notes. "Did he eat or drink anything that would have given him acid reflux or indigestion?"

"He didn't eat dinner," Audrey told the physician. "He did drink some Scotch. I don't know how much. Will that be a problem, I mean, with the medication?"

They all turned their heads when suddenly Megan stood and announced, "I'm going to puke!"

Audrey sprang up, too, and led Megan away towards the nearby restroom.

Since Audrey was preoccupied with her daughter, Dr. Glazer turned to Josh and Drake. "You can probably answer these questions, since you were all at home together tonight. We have to know what's in his system, in order to determine the possible cause of his symptoms and to select the appropriate medication. Do you know if your dad consumes alcohol on a regular basis?"

"No, he doesn't. Usually only on the holidays," Josh stated.

Drake added, "And not very much. Like a glass of wine with dinner. On the holidays, that is."

"The only time we've ever seen him . . . intoxicated . . . was last St. Patrick's Day." Josh said, reddening slightly at the memory.

"And that was because he drank some punch that he didn't know was spiked," Drake pointed out.

Dr. Glazer ticked off the checklist, "The symptoms he's presenting, besides pain, are lightheadedness, shortness of breath, dizziness, profuse sweating and an accelerated pulse."

"There's something else in his system you might need to know about. Our mother said he'd been smoking a cigar with his drink," Drake said in a low voice.

Josh practically whispered, "We think that cigar was laced with marijuana."

"And we'd appreciate it if you did NOT mention that to our mom," said Drake, emphatically.

"Interesting," Dr. Glazer replied, with a slight smile playing around his mouth. "May I ask how you were privy to this information?"

"We got the cigar at a party and were going to smoke it ourselves," lied Drake, with practiced ease.

Then Josh spoke, "But he caught us and confiscated it."

"And when he sniffed it, he told us what it really was," Drake told the doctor, who took note of everything.

"He must have put it in the drawer with the other cigars he has," said Josh.

"Forgetting to dispose of it? Hmm. How would you know if he smoked that particular cigar?" Dr. Glazer asked them, somewhat sarcastically.

"We don't. But we just thought you ought to be aware of it. In case," Drake plowed on.

"Tell me, do you know if you father gets high very often?" Dr. Glazer wanted to know, in the needling manner they both recognized from previous less-than-pleasant encounters with the man.

"No. I mean, we don't know, but we don't think he does," answered Josh.

Drake said, "He's home practically every night, that is, he goes out with our mother, but not by himself very often."

"He's a devoted family man," concluded Josh.

"I may have to ask your mother about this," Dr. Glazer said, tapping the clipboard with his pen.

Josh reached into his wallet and took out some folded bills. "These are a little wet – "

Drake interjected, " - from our day at the water park – "

Josh said as smoothly as he could, "but I hope we can reach a gentlemen's agreement about this. We think our dad would prefer that our mom didn't get any more upset than she already is."

Dr. Glazer palmed the money, despite its dampness, and replied, "You know I do have to make a note of this in the history, but I think we can leave your mother out of the loop."

"Good!" said Drake.

"Thank you," answered Josh, politely.

"Someone will come out when there's something to tell you." Dr. Glazer told the boys, moving off down the hallway, as he pocketed the three wet twenties Josh had given him.

Megan was lying down in a darkened section of the waiting area on a reclining armchair, groaning occasionally and clutching her stomach. Audrey sat in a folding chair beside Megan, patting her forehead with a wet paper towel and offering her sips of ginger ale. "This is why we keep telling you not to keep sushi in your bedroom for snacking," Audrey reminded Megan, somewhat reproachfully.

Dr. Glazer returned later to talk with the family, dropping his highhandedness, and launching into medical mode. He explained, "Normally the chambers of the heart, which are called the atria, or upper chamber, and the ventricles will contract in coordinated manner. The contractions are caused by an electrical signal that begins in the sinoatrial node and is conducted through the atria, stimulating the atria to contract.

PSVT, or paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia, can start in the SA or AV nodes. Triggers may include stress, smoking, caffeine, alcohol and illegal drug use. We have also been checking to rule out Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome and paroxysmal atrial tachycardia, also known as PAT.

We've given Walter some verapamil, a drug to slow the tachycardia back down into the normal range. We'll let you know when he's stabilized so you can see him."

Drake and Josh spent the time waiting by walking around, making a circuit from the gift shop to the chapel to the outdoor garden and back to the waiting area, and not sitting down for long periods. They were missing their phones, games and music to pass the time. Drake bit his fingernails. Occasionally they stopped and stared at the TV that was suspended from the ceiling.

Drake said to Josh, "I still feel awful, no matter what you say. I can't believe I put Walter in the hospital."

Josh replied, "He wouldn't want you to blame yourself. You know how he says not to dwell on a mistake, but learn the lesson from it and move on."

The chief resident came to tell the family that they would be able to go in and see Walter for a few minutes, but that Walter would need to remain in the hospital for observation and further testing.

Audrey told the boys to sit with Megan, got up and hurried after the young doctor.

Looking down at their sleeping sister, Drake poked Josh, "God, I hope her head doesn't spin around or anything!"

Josh answered Drake, "I KNOW!" Then he started gently and almost fearfully stroking Megan's arm, saying, "Megs, I'm sorry to disturb you when you're feeling so nauseous, but I thought you'd want to know that Dad's better. Do you want to go in and see him?"

She shook her head. "As long as he's okay, I'll wait until I'm not so ill. Will you get me some more ginger ale? Please?" Megan was parched and took several large gulps from the can Josh handed her.

Audrey came back, looking contented but tired. "Your turn, guys,' she said pointing down the hall. "Room 3003."

Megan pulled herself up off the lazyboy, shouting, "I need the bathroom again, NOW!" and rushed around the corner, with Audrey at her heels.

The boys entered Room 3003 to find Walter in bed, the head of which was raised up, so he could see them without straining. He had an IV in one arm and was hooked up to some kind of monitor that measured 4 different things and which beeped. The beep was the beating of Walter's heart, now steady and regular. He looked a lot better than he had at home earlier. The color in his face was returning. The boys went to stand on either side of Walter, with Drake staring interestedly at the monitor.

Josh, looking morose, took Walter's hand and said, "We're sorry we put you in the hospital."

Drake whirled around to give Josh a startled look, catching his eye, mouthing "Un-be-lievable!"

Reassuringly, Walter told them, "You know that's not true. The doctor says it's what can happen to someone my age who doesn't get enough exercise and enjoys their food too much and doesn't react well to stress. However, it's much more common in people who are heavy drinkers or drug users." Here, Walter suppressed the urge to laugh, and then made an effort to keep a straight face. "By the way," Walter said, managing an even tone, "Jeff told me that you made a gentlemen's agreement with him."

Drake and Josh both thought many unkind thoughts about their neighbor and what they might do to get even with him. Drake could tell by Josh's facial contortions that he was now fuming inside.

Since they were silent, exchanging looks, Walter prompted, "So your mother wouldn't find out about the blunt?"

Annoyed, Josh growled, "He took my sixty dollars!"

Walter looked at Drake, who stuck his hands in his pockets and studied the floor. Walter prompted, "I'm guessing you found out about it when you borrowed some of the jazz CD's from my study?"

Walter then said, with warmth in his voice, "That was very thoughtful of you two to worry about your mother's reaction. However, you should know that I never kept it secret from her. She and I were alive during the seventies and eighties, you know, and we lived full lives already before we met. I had told the paramedics about the whiskey and the blunt on the ride over here. I guess Dr. Glazer just wanted to confirm the whole picture with family members."

Even more aggravated, Josh repeated, loudly, "He took my sixty dollars!"

Drake said to Walter, "Wait. You told him, or them, _everything_?!"

Walter chuckled, "I let the football story stand – quick thinking, boys! And I didn't say anything about the helicopter, either, only that we'd just found out about a major, unexpected expense."

Walter smiled at Josh and Drake, telling them, "Your mother was so proud of you both just now. She said you called 911 and supported her and didn't panic. And she also told me you were good with Megan, even though emotions were running strong tonight."

Walter was practically beaming now. "It did me good to hear that you acted like _men_ during this emergency. Particularly so, in light of, uh, what happened earlier."

"We're glad you're feeling better, Dad," Josh said.

Drake added, "And that it wasn't a heart attack."

Josh said, "Yeah, the younger doctor told us this kind of problem can occur without damaging any cardiac muscle. That's good news."

Josh noticed a little booklet that lay opened on the bed, and picked it up. "What's this?"

Walter replied, "Oh, it's called _Healing Meditations_. I was getting kind of antsy in here, and I found it in the nightstand drawer."

Josh picked it up and read aloud from the page it was opened to:

"_The heart is the center of Divine Love and perfect circulation. Its action is harmonious, vital, adequate and complete. The pulsations of life are steady, unceasing and perfect. 'Let not your heart be troubled.' Love is at the center of man's being, and the calm, continuous, pulsations of life are governed by Love._

_Sudden shock, terrific loss, all kinds of fear, these are some of the thoughts which quickly manifest in the body as 'heart trouble.' The remedy is LOVE. 'Perfect love casteth out fear.' Almost every case of heart trouble can be traced to disappointment or disagreement with a loved one; or to a feeling of loss from financial reverses. The heart is known as the center of love, which is the healing balm for every inharmonious thought. As long as we realize that our heart is a living center, through which the Love from Our Source flows to bless eternally, not only our own lives, but the lives of all whom we contact, then our heart cannot be troubled. We reiterate, the remedy for all heart trouble is LOVE."_

The nurse stuck her head in the doorway to advise them to wrap up their visit. Josh put the booklet down.

Josh felt like he was in free fall again, as the words he had just read started to overcome him. Josh was usually a rather talkative person and this evening he'd been exceptionally quiet. His pent-up jumble of emotions started crashing in on him; he had too many brushes with death over the course of one day. He had come close to losing his life and losing the people closest to him. His shoulders started quaking, his face sort of crumpled, as he used the last of his rapidly-dissolving self-control to keep from bursting into tears. Drake was at his brother's side instantly, putting his arm around Josh's shoulders, patting him and murmuring "Everything's okay now, Joshie." Walter opened his arms, the best he could without dislodging the tubes and wires, with mostly Josh and some of Drake falling into a rather awkward group hug. He held Josh tightly with the non-IV arm and managed to ruffle Drake's hair with his other hand.

"I know I should be comforting YOU," mumbled Josh, stepping back and trying to regain his composure, "but it does something to me to see you like this," waving his arm to indicate the heart monitor and IV stand. He sniffed and rubbed his eyes. Drake, filled with concern, still had his arm draped across Josh's back.

Walter told Drake and Josh, "Hospitals are scary places. We've all had quite a day. Now I want you to take your mother and sister home and get some sleep yourselves. It sounds like Megan has learned the hard way about consuming perishable foods without adequate refrigeration. That's going to keep your mother busy: looking after Megan, instead of dwelling on my health. I hope to get out of here by tomorrow night at the latest. I'll expect to find you still in your room when I arrive home."

Drake complained, "You're going ahead and enforcing this 'lockdown'? Aw, Walter."

Walter wouldn't hear any objections. "Now you boys just had a crash course on what it means to be men and you rose to the occasion. A man honors his obligations and commitments, looks out for the best interests of his loved ones, and doesn't shirk a hard task or try to avoid something necessary even though it might be unpleasant. You can consider serving out your 'sentence' the pop quiz. I won't be there to make you, but I'm counting on you. This is _our_ gentleman's agreement."

"Very well, Dad," Josh said meekly. "For my part, I can't wait to get to sleep. The fear and worry have been . . . exhausting. I might just stay in bed the whole time, if you have no objections."

With resignation, Drake said, "Right. We'll find _something_ to do with ourselves, stuck in our room, until we see you." Then, taking a chance, he whined a little, "But please don't separate us. I promise I'll behave."

Walter thought a moment. "I really don't want to give up my study. It's my little oasis, you know, away from the fairer sex. All I can say is that I'll recommend keeping you together when I discuss it with Audrey. She has an equal part in the decision." Drake was already thinking of ways to sweeten up his mother on this matter.

Then, for the second time that Walter could ever recall, both his boys leaned over and kissed him on the face.

As the boys left the room together, the nurse came in and checked all Walter's vital signs, adjusted his pillow, added something to the fluids being administered to him intravenously, and asked, "Those two fine boys are your sons?"

Walter said wistfully, and with pride, "Yes. Nearly out of high school, and growing up so fast. They won't be with me that much longer. They can be quite a challenge sometimes, but I wouldn't trade either of them for all the gold at the end of the rainbow."

Walter started to relax, probably as a result of whatever the nurse had just given him, but also because he felt that he could trust Josh and Drake to stick to their "gentlemen's agreement" and that, for the moment, they had all resolved a trying and difficult crisis that had confronted them as a family. He knew then that whatever happened as a result of this alarming helicopter fiasco, they would be able to get through it together. The sound of his heartbeat, causing the monitor to beep at regular intervals, was a joyful reminder that he was alive and his family was intact, forming a kind of lullaby for him. He yawned and closed his eyes, feeling at peace, and slept.

THE END


End file.
